


It Will Come Back

by SimpleSisypheanTask



Category: Daredevil (TV), Iron Fist (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Luke Cage (TV), Marvel, The Defenders (Marvel TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Frank gets to be happy too, I meant to keep things clean, Nothing but respect for MY murder husband, Pets, Smut, but my hands slipped and oops, dog-sitting, no one can judge me harder than me, oh did I mention there's also, there's sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 12:03:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12704613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimpleSisypheanTask/pseuds/SimpleSisypheanTask
Summary: Michelle always wanted a dog, ever since she was a little girl. Cats like her dear Fuzzy, however, were more practical in a city where rodents would look at you sideways, as if you were an inconvenience to them.So, what's she to do when she finds a big, sweet dog on the front steps of her apartment complex, an envelope containing a stack of cash and an apology pinned to his collar? Oh, you bet she's keeping that dog, Fuzzy's feelings be damned.





	1. Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Kool & The Gang - Summer Madness

It was sharp knock that got her to turn down the music playing off her phone, but the whining was what _really_ got her attention.

From just outside her front door, it sounded like a dog was crying for someone, anyone.

At first, Michelle thought it was just her imagination, and some of the neighborhood kids were playing ding-dong ditch, but the sound was getting louder, more desperate. By now, the sounds were heart-rending, pitiful howls.

That was definitely a dog, and not some kid who was polishing up on impressions.

Michelle Wright was never one to ignore a dog, especially not a dog that needed her. Not that there were many, mind you, but as a dog lover who owned nothing but irritable cats all her life, she made a silent vow to jump on all chances to be around sweet, dopey dogs.

She turned off the burner on the stove, knowing that her Ramen was going to be super mushy by the time she returned. Didn't matter. She was dead tired from her spending an entire day creating new lesson plans for when September came back around.

She didn't even know how she convinced herself that she'd be capable of something as strenuous as _chewing._

Opening the door, she found pleading brown eyes staring up at her.

"You're a big boy, aren't you?" Michelle crouch, careful not to move too fast. From inside, she could hear her cat meow imploringly. "C'mere. I won't hurt you..."

The dog sniffed the air, just as curious about her as she was him. He stood from his curled up position, tail wagging.

"Yeah! I'm your friend! Are you my friend, doggy? Are you?"

He wagged his tail faster, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he inched closer. She stuck her hand out a little further, encouraging him. He leaned into her hand, asking for a pet on his furry little head, which she happily gave up.

Fuzzy, her irritable cat of the past five years, peeked out the door. Immediately, she began hissing, the black fur on her back spiking up. Michelle placed her free hand on Fuzzy's head, pushing the cat away. That didn't stop her from growling lowly and keeping close by.

The dog didn't seem bothered by the obvious dislike from the other animal, coming in closer to Michelle, stepping over the threshold.

Now that he was in better lighting, Michelle could see the heavy looking envelope hanging off his tagless collar. She carefully unpinned it, laughing as the dog started twisting and turning to meet her hands.

"Be still, boy." She opened the envelope, peering inside, "I gotta get this, okay? Might be a..."

_Oh, shit!_

She closed the flap quickly, eyes wide. Hurriedly, her eyes roamed up and down the empty block, searching for anybody who could be lurking around. Opening the envelope again, she blinked several times to make sure her eyes weren't deceiving her.

Crisp hundred dollar bills, in a thick, beautiful stack were inside. Benjamin Franklin stared back at Michelle, his thin lips pursed, soulless eyes staring back as if he was saying, "Yes, bitch, I _am_ here. Whatchu gonna do about it?"

Michelle ushered the dog inside, to her living room before picking Fuzzy up and quickly depositing the angered cat in her bed and closing the door. Shuffling back to the living room, she found the dog on her couch, lounging on the furniture as if he'd lived there his whole life.

_Hmph, with how much money I just found on him that could pay my rent for the next couple months, he is family now._

"Oh, my gosh! Hey, I've heard of money cats, boy, but never a money _dog._ Are you a deity? You can tell me, O Wise One. I won't tell anyone else."

She was babbling, of course, but the dog didn't seem to mind. Michelle unfurled her fingers from around the envelope, checking for a name or something. She wasn't looking to steal somebody's dog, but she wasn't above taking their money. Thankfully, there was no name on it, so technically, that money was hers, right?

Right.

Michelle opened the envelope again, flicking through the bills before finding a tiny note in the back. She pulled it out, stuffing the envelope in her bra because her sundress didn't have any pockets and she wasn't ready to part with the money for even a second.

Trying to ignore how elated she was over the crinkle of all that cash made her as she breathed in and out, Michelle read the note carefully.

_Sorry for springing this on you, but my dog needs somewhere to stay. Can't be with me right now. Use the money to buy his food & stuff. I'll be back to pick him up later. Keep the rest of the cash. Sorry._

_-F.C._

Michelle frowned a little at the thought of the dog not being hers to keep, but, free money was looking too good to care about that right now.

"Hey, boy, you like Ramen? Ooh, you know what? How about some chicken nuggets instead? Yeah, we'll get you some nuggets tonight. Tomorrow, real dog food, okay?"

The dog let out a soft bark in response, not having a clue what she was saying, but enjoying her presence and the warmth of the house nonetheless.

"See, this is why I _knew_ I would love having a dog!" She shook her head in awe at her sudden good fortune. "Y'all bring nothing but prosperity."

Michelle began making plans on how to spend the money wisely. A dog bed, a couple toys and enough food to last a big dog until her next paycheck were all necessary. After that, she could probably pay her light bill, or maybe the water? No, no, _groceries!_

She was giddy with excitement, practically walking on air.

Walking into the kitchen, Michelle made nuggets for the dog, letting them cool a bit before putting them in a bowl for him, along with another bowl full of water. The dog chowed down messily, in total bliss.

She threw out her Ramen, not even hungry anymore as her mind raced, trying to figure out just who had it like that to drop stacks for strangers in payment for taking care of their pooch.

Whoever they were, they were getting a big, fat kiss from her.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Frank Castle was a wanted man. From criminals, to the police, to even Daredevil himself, they all wanted to take him down. Whether they wanted him in cuffs or six feet under was really depending on who you asked.

Didn't matter. Anybody who came at him wrong could eat one of his bullets, or thirty. Frank Castle _always_ made sure to put 'em down before they could do it to him.

He didn't have the time to keep explaining himself to the cops or the Devil. If they wanted answers as to the _why,_ then they could take their happy asses to the nearest TV and flick it onto a news channel, catch one of the many broadcasts still churning out about what happened to his family, and leave him the fuck alone.

He had bodies to drop and crimes to stop.

So, when things got too hairy, and he was able to see less and less of Max as the summer brought too many bastards out of the comfort of whatever pit of Hell they crawled from, Frank knew he had to make a change.

But, _damn,_ he loved this dog. Max was so loyal, so sweet and always willing to take a bite out of anybody who he sensed wanted to hurt Frank. How could he part with his beloved pet? Who would he even give him to?

His first thought, as he settled down into his worn out couch, was Karen, but then he remembered she had far too many late hours as an up and coming journalist. Couldn't subject Max to an environment just as bad as the last.

After Karen, Frank ran out of names of friends.

He started to think of people he knew around the neighborhood he had a cramped apartment in, trying to remember what he knew after watching his neighbors from the window when he had enough time between kills, and needed to lay low for a minute.

There was an old lady in the apartment complex next door. She always leaned out her window and yelled at the children enjoying their summer vacation by playing in the street. He didn't want Max around that kind of person.

A family of four lived downstairs from him. The parents always argued with each other, and their teens never seemed to be home often. Frank didn't think a dog fixed a marriage. Two kids certainly hadn't fixed his neighbors'.

Frank sighed, staring up at the ceiling. There were cracks and mysterious stains up there, but as long as it was intact, he wouldn't go worrying about it. What he was worried about, was the dog laying it's head in his lap.

"Who are we gonna let you go with, boy? You got any ideas?"

Max huffed, turning over for belly rubs. Frank didn't get any help from that, but he obliged anyway.

Reaching for the remote, he turned on the TV. He'd just think about this to-

A commercial for back to school sales came on. Bright and happy kids wearing bright and happy clothes as they danced around a set designed to look like a school. A teacher was handed a shiny, red apple by one of the kids that caused them to smile - brightly and happily, of course.

Frank let a slow grin cross his face, mindful of the bruises from his last job covering his left cheek. The perfect neighbor came to his mind, and he didn't know why he hadn't realized that the greatest dog-sitter was right under his nose.

She was the most lowkey of all the people on the block, so he figured that was why his mind made him skip right over her.

Teachers made for _the best_ dog sitters in the summer! They didn't have school, and no public school teacher in Hell's Kitchen had enough moolah to take a fancy vacation. She was the most likely to have the free time and temperament for this job.

Frank couldn't help it as his grin got wider. It hurt, but he didn't care. Max would be okay. It was going to be okay.


	2. Sit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle doesn't work well under pressure from pet shop employees. Or from her cat to keep the new dog away from it.
> 
> Frank checks up on his dog from a distance, and makes shocking discoveries about his emotions in doing so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alabama Shakes - Gimme All Your Love

"I'm sorry I panicked earlier," Michelle whispered the following night as she gently massaged shampoo into the panting dog's fur. He stared at her with a content doggy grin, no judgement whatsoever coming from him.

Of course he wasn't judging. It wasn't like he understood what happened when she went to the pet store for all his stuff, and a nosy but very helpful employee asked his name. And poor Max didn't know that because Michelle didn't read get name off the note from his owner, she renamed him Lucky, after an old neighbor's dog who had a weird diet of leftover pizza.

"But, uh, it was smooth, huh?" Michelle carefully rinsed the suds away, impressed by the stillness and composure this dog possessed. Whoever trained him must have cared about him a great deal. "You're the best luck I've _ever_ had in my life. Like, they only way things could've been better, is if you rolled up in a Porsche with a large pizza and buffalo wings, baby."

She scratched behind his ear as she glanced behind herself to double check that the towel was close by. It was, but she still pulled it from the sink counter and draped it over her lap in preparation.

"It'd also be good if you could _stay,_ but your owner loves you, so I'm not gonna even hope like that."

Max/Lucky licked her forearm as once she finished up and started to drying him off. He may not have understood Frank dropping him off on this strange lady's doorstep, but he surely liked her. Plus, there was so much space to play with all his new toys!

When Lucky was fully dry, Michelle let him have at the knotted rope toy he seemed to favor before going to her room and checking on Fuzzy.

The poor cat had been taken out of her room last night so Michelle could let Lucky stay with her. Fuzzy hadn't left position by the door until Michelle woke up that morning and placed her in the cage until they left for the store. Now, the cat was spread out in the middle of Michelle's bed, sleeping.

Michelle quietly backed out of her bedroom, making a mental note to research ways to safely and quickly acquaint cats and dogs.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Frank looked outside the window of his apartment, waiting. He lived right across from Michelle, but her place was significantly nicer than his. Some rich asshole got his hands on the property over there and fixed things up on that side, but the apartments on Frank's side still looked like shit.

It annoyed Frank a bit because he knew that one of these days, he'd find out that there was either going to be a rent increase and all tenants on his side would be in trouble, or they'd be forced out so their places could be converted like the others. It wasn't fair. Improvements being made at the expense of fucking up the lives of people who were just trying to live weren't really improvements at all.

Even so, Max and the teacher were over there. They were living fine and dandy, and that was what mattered right now.

Frank groaned as he was forced to kneel by the window, wishing last night hadn't gone the way it did. There was a healing stab wound in his side that hurt like a bitch to lay on at night, but his recently sprained ankle wasn't something he wanted to stand on as he watched Michelle come outside with Max in tow.

He'd left Max with her last night after realizing that it would be then or never. With the back to back jobs, Frank hadn't even managed to any any sleep within the past 48 hours. He was so tired and worried about his boy that he had to do a rushed job of letting Max go. Couldn't even slowly ease away. He had to tell Max to stay, knock on the door and take off before someone picked up on him having been there at all.

Frank could still remember Max's cries as he realized he was being left behind.

He felt horrible about it, and probably always would, but seeing Michelle get ready for her quick nightly walk with Max in tow made him smile.

The only reason he even knew of the teacher's existence was because the year before, he remembered noticing how she would always take a walk around the block every night during the summer, soaking up the rays of sunshine of the final hour, and stopped when school started up again.

He guessed that she was a teacher solely from the hours she kept and her change in attire once the heat kicked up. Office workers don't usually go in wearing crop tops and short shorts during summer, right? Frank wouldn't know, yet he guessed the answer would be a strong no.

Sometimes, he would follow her from the rooftops if gang activity happened to pick up in the area, but he mostly left her alone. Didn't want to befriend the only nice civilian on his block, especially not a teacher, only to get her hurt with his baggage, you know?

Frank watched Michelle come jogging lightly back around the block with Max, laughing loud enough for the sound to echo on the quiet street. Her laugh, it was another thing about her that got him thinking she wasn't some office worker. Offices tended to crush spirits.

_Huh,_ Frank found himself thinking, _she woulda been the cutest pencil pusher though._

He abruptly turned away from the window, bruised hands pulling the blackout curtains closed. His heart was beating frantically in his chest, and he could already feel a headache forming at his temple. These weren't thoughts he should be thinking.

His wife and kids were gone, but it still felt like betrayal deep down. It seemed like it would _always_ feel like betrayal, like the lowest thing he could do to their memory. How could it not?

Taking deep breaths, he went to the bathroom. The stitches in his side had pulled from his sharp turn away from the images outside. There was already blood staining his dark grey shirt.

_They ain't comin' back,_ he remind himself, staring forlorn at his reflection in the mirror, teary-eyed and breathing erratically. Frank couldn't face himself for long. He let his feet lead him back to the living room. _They ain't never comin' back._ He had to remember that. He had to remember that he'd never see them and -

He took a detour to his room, shoving more weapons inside the duffle he hadn't gotten around to fully unpacking after his last job.

He'd be going 72 hours without sleep now. His body would hate him for it later, but not nearly as much as he hated his mind right now.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Lucky would be great to cuddle with in the winter, Michelle was sure, but it wasn't the winter. It was a muggy 88°F, and she was melting. Lucky was going to make her drown in her own sweat if he didn't get away from her.

"Too hot, Lucky," she whined, rolling away from him. " _Way_ too hot, boy." It was much cooler on this side of the bed. Michelle closed her eyes, hoping for a chance to catch some sleep.

Max inched his way across the bed. Michelle groaned, wondering if the floor would be comfortable enough to escape to.

Nah. She wasn't going to sleep on the damn floor. She was the proud owner of a perfectly good couch.

"Stay. Sleep. Good boy," she mumbled to her dog, collecting a thin sheet and a pillow from the bed. Lucky looked up at her in confusion, but didn't move from his position in the center of the bed. _Really good boy._

When Michelle woke up, she found Fuzzy perched on the couch arm by her head, and heard the sound of Lucky whining like he did the night she found him. He was either scared after waking up to see he was still alone, or wanted out. Either way, Michelle figured it was too early for any of this.

She looked at her cat's upside-down face, frowning. She just knew her cat would cuss her out if she could.

"Don't look at me like that! He's an honored guest in this household, Fuzz. I'm _not_ kicking him out!" She stood, gathering her bedding into her arms. She huffed in anger when she noticed her headscarf was in the pile. Her hair must've been a mess.

Fuzzy meowed, catching her attention again.

"When was the last time _you_ payed a bill?" Michelle bitterly muttered to the cat, thoroughly pissed off.

Fuzzy jumped down and went to the kitchen for her food bowl, ignoring Michelle.

"Yeah, avoid the question, coward! I see you for what you are! I see you!"

Later, when she had breakfast and woke up properly, Michelle figured it was time to begin conditioning Lucky and Fuzzy to each other's presence.

Two hours later, Michelle was in the bathroom trying to place a band-aid on each hand and Fuzzy was in her cage, making angry noises. Lucky was making circles around Michelle, concerned whines coming from him at her injuries.

She pat him on the head until he settled down. "Maybe I should've Googled how to pick up an agitated cat without losing a limb before all this, huh?" She couldn't blame Fuzzy for being offended by Lucky's intrusion in their lives, but _damn!_

"Well, I think that's enough with the whole meet and greet stuff, don't you?"

Lucky flipped onto his back, belly exposed for scratches, not understanding a word she said but understanding enough to know how weak she was for a cute animal. And he was the cutest.

Michelle rolled her eyes, reaching out to scratch him, helpless against his charm. He _had_ been the only pet of the two that seemed cool with being civil. That deserved a reward.

"Good boy!"


	3. Roll Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank and Michelle finally meet. Oooh!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The New Basement Tapes - When I Get My Hands On You

Michelle fully expected Lucky to be gone within a month of having him. After all, who wouldn't want to immediately get their well-behaved dog back? Somebody had to miss him, right? She sure as hell would when he had to go.

One month became two. Lucky would sit at the window sometimes and cry. Sometimes, he tried to go across the street when they'd step out for a walk. Michelle wondered why an owner who lived so close wouldn't have ever dropped by with a quick, "Hey, thanks for taking my dog. Let's compare schedules so if I know when you're able to dog-sit him again." Or take Lucky back by now.

Two months became three. Michelle found herself taking care of the dog still as the leaves turned warm colors, and teens filled her classroom at the local high school. No word from Lucky's owner came, but sometimes, she could swear she felt eyes on her when they'd take a walk around the block. She never saw who was looking.

Three months became four. Fuzzy still didn't like Lucky, but refused to let a dog punk her. She strut around the apartment acting like Lucky didn't exist while simultaneously keeping her eye on him at all times. Another thick stack of cash found its way onto her doorstep, and her next door neighbor had almost walked outside to see Michelle crying over her fat stacks. Michelle began taking all her mail inside her apartment to read from then on.

Four months became six. Lucky didn't like many men, but the men he gravitated toward all seemed to be similar in muscled build and deep voices. Michelle wondered what his owner looked like.

Six months became nine. Michelle felt like the safest woman in Hell's Kitchen when Lucky attacked a mugger for her on one of their walks one Friday evening. She gave him some of her steak from dinner that night, and took him to play in the park all day on Saturday. The elusive owner still sent outrageous amounts of cash to her every month. No new notes accompanied any of them.

Nine months became ten. The school year was coming to a close soon, and Michelle was sad to see her senior students go, but was proud of all the graduates. Sometimes, she wished that she could redo her high school years and figure out a way to get out of Hell's Kitchen, but then she'd remember how much she loved helping the kids leave this place with a scholarship and a dream, and was content with her life.

After ten silent months, a knocking on Michelle's door made her turn her music down on her phone. Lucky's rare barking made her quickly finish icing the last cinnamon roll and investigate.

She cracked open the door with one hand and held Lucky's collar with the other, revealing a man in a dark hoodie and jeans. Even if he didn't have such an intense gaze, a frame that seemed to fill the doorway without being close enough for that to be possible or Lucky trying to squeeze his way out, Michelle knew who he was.

Lucky was leaving.

"Hi," Michelle said, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth and nervously biting. She wasn't ready. All this time, and she wasn't ready.

"Hey." And there was the husky voice her Lucky always turned his head at.

Michelle let go of Lucky's collar in shock. The dog wasted no time nudging the door open more and enthusiastically jumping on the man, the two unaware of Michelle's thoughts about how she hadn't expected his voice to sound so... _hot._

She was generously gifted with his rough voice again as he talked to the dog. She watched him pet Lucky and call him _Max._ Michelle hadn't considered Lucky could've been a Max, but certainly saw it now with the way the guy handled him. _Max and The Guy._ They seemed like a nice pair.

Better than Lucky and Michelle, fate seemed to think.

Dark eyes locked on her own, a hand coming out to shake hers. "I'm Frank."

Ah. So, it was Max and Frank. _And Frank has nice, big hands. Strong hands. Frank has a perfect dog, a sexy voice, manly hands and looks like a snack. Of course,_ Michelle thought as she shook with him. "It's nice to officially meet you. I'm Michelle." Her own hand disappeared in his. _Damn._

"Thank you, ma'am. Sorry about all of this. I, uh, had some things that needed to be taken care of, and I couldn't watch after him the way he deserved. I didn't mean to disrupt your life with all of this, but I didn't want him in a kennel or nothin'. Just wanted to make sure I got things all set for him. I apologize for doin' it this way."

_AND MANNERS! HE EVEN HAS MANNERS,_ Michelle's inner voice screeched, furious.

"No problem," she coolly replied, wondering if he thought she looked like a hot mess. She felt like it. "He's a great dog. And you paid me pretty well to look after him. Almost makes me feel like I had two jobs - and watching your dog paid way better."

He licked his lips, probably to hide the way the corners twitched up, and she noticed how delicious his jawline was. He didn't give her any time to snap out of it before he was distracting her with his voice, yet again.

"Ain't too many people who would've bothered to keep him after they got the cash. It's a lot of responsibility, and you've done great."

Michelle shrugged, looking away for a moment so she could collect her thoughts. Too much was happening too fast for her.

Lucky - uh, _Max_ was leaving, and she wouldn't have a cool dog that liked watching her go through her PowerPoint presentations more than her students did, and gave her company when Fuzzy was being antisocial.

And, to top it all off, Max's owner was handsome as fuck and she was standing in front of him wearing stupid sky blue pajama shorts with clouds on them and an old, faded NYU t-shirt that she knotted behind her, exposing about an inch of skin that made her feel _completely_ naked under Frank's hardened gaze.

"Do... Do you want the stuff I got him?" She opened the door a bit wider. Fuzzy appeared, rubbing up against her legs as if she sensed Michelle needed the comfort.

The man smiled. "That'd be great. I'll pay you back for - "

Oh, now he was just _trying_ to prove how perfect he was. Like she didn't have enough saved from the past few months to be satisfied. "No, it's okay. It wasn't any problem, man. Like I said, he's a great dog. I didn't mind having him here." She gestured for him to come inside.

He seemed to hesitate for only a moment, looking back over his shoulder at the dark street, before coming in. He scanned his eyes over everything in the house as Michelle led him around, gathering all of Lucky's stuff.

Michelle felt like crying when she lifted one of Lucky's favorite rope toys, and Lucky came up to tug on the other end, thinking they were about to play. She smiled instead, scratching behind one of his ears.

She was going to miss this dog, even if he was just going across the street like she assumed. Lucky was the best dog a woman could have ever asked for.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Frank held Max's new dog bed up enough to hide the erection he was sporting as Michelle bent over to pick up one of the toys she got his dog. She was wearing what had to be the world's tiniest shorts and a t-shirt that kept inching up to expose wide hips with stretch marks he wanted to trace with his tongue.

Over the past few months, he'd had a rough time, trying to clean things up on the streets so that he'd be able to get his dog back. Every night seemed longer than the last as he wished for a bright spot in the midst of all that blood, darkness and rage. Without Max to calm him, he turned to the next best thing.

At first, peeking in on Michelle's life with Max felt odd. It was like watching some woman take care of his child. Eventually, he forgot about how odd it was to see them together when he started sleeping like a baby after he'd see them going for a walk, or found them enjoying the weekend at a park.

She was friendly, seeming to know everyone on the block by first name, and them knowing hers, too. No one messed with her when Max was around, and that was good, but when she walked without him, Frank felt his anxiety kick up to optimum levels. He would trail her for as long as he could during those times.

This was how he started learning more about her without meaning to.

Every morning, on her way to work, she got a muffin and a bottle of iced tea. After work, she'd stick around for a bit to help her students catch up with assignments, or she'd go directly home to walk Max.

Every weekend, they'd be at the park or at what must have been her favorite diner, looking like they belonged on a magazine. Max's fur was glossy and he was never without the best accessories when the weather wasn't the best. She always dressed in colors that popped, her style professional on weekdays, morphing into trendy casual clothes during those relaxing weekends.

This was the least he'd seen her in since summer ended.

"I think that's all of it," Michelle said, breaking him out of his stupor. His eyes were trained on her face before she could catch him gawking at her ass and wishing he could _put his head in the clouds,_ for lack of a less crude way of thinking at the moment.

Frank looked down at the dog bed in his hands, trying to clear his mind, and noticed it was full of well-loved toys and even the little raincoat, sweater and boots she'd bought Max for when it rained or snowed. Clearly, she didn't do anything in half-measures. He liked that.

Hell, if he was being honest, he liked _her._ As it was, he couldn't be honest. Not with this civilian. He had people to kill, streets to protect and a safer home to bring his beloved dog back to.

_But..._

"Hey, uh, I don't wanna...wanna put no pressure on you or nothin', but..."

She looked at him with her eyes so dark brown they were nearly black, unaware of just how nervous and aroused he was. And didn't that just take the cake, huh? Him, as hormonal as when he was a teen, with a crush on the hot teacher.

"Would you be willing to take care of Max again sometime? I mean, you ain't gotta. I know it's a lot, so - "

"I'd love to!" She smiled, and he noticed she had a cute little gap between her two front teeth. "So, when do you need me to?"

Frank scratched the back of his neck, thinking. "Not sure yet." He shrugged his broad shoulders. "I keep weird hours, y'know? I'll, uh, be sure to let you know when I want you...to help." Frank looked away from her and at Max, who was sitting between them, watching with his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

At least his dog had it together around a pretty lady.

Michelle and Frank talked for a bit more, her telling him about how well his dog behaved (good boy), what hours she worked (he knew already, of course), and her offering him him some cinnamon rolls (goddamn, she was the whole package, huh?). He thanked her with minimal grace as he watched her lick some icing off her fingertips, making sure to apologize just one last time for any inconveniences.

When Frank found himself wishing her a good night, he felt like he was floating on air the whole way across the street. Max followed him, having never strayed far, sniffing everything. Settling down on his worn couch, Frank enjoyed the sugary treats he was gifted, letting Max have a small piece, too.

Eventually, Max wandered over to the window, staring out and whimpering softly. After so long with Michelle in the dog's life, it was natural for him to have grown attached.

"Me, too," Frank sighed, not even looking up from the plate as he finished off the last cinnamon roll. "She's somethin', ain't she?"

Max came back over, sitting in front of Frank, head tilted to the side. Frank noticed something different about his dog. Max had a new blue collar. He reached out and inspected the tag in the shape of a bone.

"What the hell...? She named you _Lucky?"_


	4. Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank and Michelle grow closer. A teaspoon of fluff, a dash of angst, and healthy splash of more fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun. - Walking The Dog

For weeks after their first meeting, Frank seemed to materialize on Michelle's doorstep with Max whenever she had any free night.

It was hard not to note that Frank was like a walking shadow, always dressed in dark clothes, face hidden from the light. Michelle wondered if anyone else noticed him the way she was starting to.

Never did he get caught up in passing crowds of neighborhood kids or dish out mindless chatter with any of the elderly folks that always tried to rope some poor victim into listening to their tales of Back In The Day. Occasionally, she'd actually catch him ducking his head down while crossing the street, turning away from people walking by like he owed them money or something. 

That was only on days where he didn't just _appear_ out of thin air.

Still, with his weirdly antisocial behavior, she readily took the happy dog into her home each time Frank showed up. No matter how little he spoke to everyone else, he was just a delight to her. It was so refreshing around this area that she shook her head at the wads of money Frank tried to give her in exchange.

He just started pinning the money to Max's collar again, giving Michelle a pointed look when she tried to say he no longer had to pay her to watch his dog for a couple hours. "Just take it, Michelle. You're doin' me a solid for this. This is the only way I know how to thank you. I don't bake as good as you."

"Okay..." she had answered in a strange tone, one that made him suspicious. "If you say so, Frank." Like she said, she started taking the money without fighting him or anymore complaints.

Max suddenly started coming home to him with a bag full of baked goods hanging from a pouch Michelle attached to him. Frank was too busy snacking to tease her for being so stubborn. Her baking _was_ good, he hadn't lied about that. If she wanted to repay him like that, he was fine with it.

They fell into a rhythm after that. It was one that offered them both moments of pleasant conversation to steal before Frank had to turn someone into Swiss cheese, or Michelle had to face mountains of papers to grade. Soon, they found themselves acting almost like an odd pair of friends brought together by even odder circumstances, which they were.

Every single time he couldn't come back for Max until the morning, Michelle worried. Her new, attractive friend was always sporting bruises on his face and knuckles, or limping around. Shadows like him shouldn't be getting hurt, right? Or was he someone else when not with her?

She never asked about any of it because asking questions about shit that wasn't her business always meant getting involved in dangerous things. Yet, even with that knowledge, it did nothing to curb the worry. Not one bit.

Frank appreciated that she never asked. He never knew what he'd tell her when the day would inevitably come. The thought of lying to her made him sick, but what if he told the truth and she hated him instead? Thoughts like that distressed him enough to give him nightmares about trying to reach her but always being just inches behind, unable to see anything but her back.

The purposeful ignorance agreed upon between them wasn't healthy, and for now, they were okay with it. They didn't want answers that could shatter the images of each other they'd been presented. Even if they obsessed over the different answers when alone.

Dancing around an important topic had never been done by a pair so obviously curious.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"So, Teach, what's it like trying to wrangle a bunch of teens into doing their homework?"

Michelle looked up from her laptop, glad to be distracted from this poorly constructed presentation sent to her. It was much more fun to be distracted by the way Frank was stretched out on her couch, flipping through channels so fast she was sure _he_ didn't even know what he was seeing.

They'd ended up like this, on a Sunday night because Frank had did his magic trick of just appearing when she'd been bringing in groceries. After fixing them both a dinner of steak, green beans and roasted potatoes, somehow, they found themselves lounging around in her living room.

This, however, was not the first time. Just the first time where she had forgotten how excitingly nervous he made her and was left completely relaxed.

Michelle shrugged. "For some reason, all of them like me until I make them write essays on the books they _should_ be reading."

"I can see that. No one likes book reports, Teach."

She tossed the throw pillow that she'd been using to protect her thighs from the heat of the laptop at his head. Her aim was off by a lot, but Frank got the idea as he plucked the pillow up from the floor and placed it behind his head before continuing his search for a network that interested him. He looked outrageously smug.

"Shut up," Michelle grumbled, looking at her screen, "I've got super serious teacher business to attend to. Quit distracting me."

He smiled at her, and there was that nervous excitement, back and stronger than ever. " _Sorry._ " He stopped flipping through channels, and let out a sigh. It wasn't one of his usual exasperated, frustrated or resigned sighs. This one was one of those sighs that someone did in movies when they saw the love of their life.

Michelle paused, listening to the TV. She immediately recognized the dialog and her eyes flickered over to the TV screen.

_"E.T... Phone home."_

"Wow, I didn't know I let a fucking nerd into my house," she teased, scrunching up her nose at him. She began snickering at Frank's affronted expression. He looked so cute! "I think some _Star Trek_ reruns might be on, if you're interested, nerd."

"This movie is a classic." He still had that smile on his face. She felt protected by the joking tone they both shared, as if it were an invisible barrier. They were being friendly, and being friendly was safe. "Don't mock me, Chelle."

That was new. Most people called her Mimi when choosing a nickname for her. So much for her deflecting. Now, all she wanted was to test the strength of that couch and make him moan her name. Still... Couldn't destroy a good friendship.

"Did you cry when Elliott and E.T. were dying together, Frank? Did you? Huh, ner- "

The pillow came at her before she could react, and hit her shoulder. Frank turned up the volume, giving her a warning glance. He was hardly able to keep up the look before he let out short, breathy laughs.

Michelle placed the pillow back in its original spot, unable to keep the dopey grin off her face. " _Neeeeerd._ " It was so hard to keep the fondness out of her voice.

"Keep talkin', and I'll delete all of your American Gods recordings. Don't make me do it."

"You're just mad I found out you're a _neeeeerd._ "

"Takes one to know one."

That shut her up for all of five minutes before she became invested in the movie and realized he wasn't wrong. She gave him an earful during the credits for having the nerve to call her out in her home. Frank couldn't wipe the affectionate look from his face the entire time she ranted.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"What do you do?"

Michelle asked because she realized, rather belatedly, that she didn't know exactly what he did that kept him running around at weird hours of the night. This was New York. Lots of people had work like that - mostly because they were failed actors or playwrights. Frank didn't look like the acting type, and his vague note off of Max's collar crossed him being a writer out.

"Hmm?" Frank was helping her with the dishes tonight, but his drying got noticeably slower.

Michelle didn't repeat herself, knowing he heard her. They were standing right next to each other. She stared at him, washing mechanically, and waited for an answer. Fuzzy rubbed her head against her leg, cold nose not enough to make her quit looking the man beside her.

Frank seemed much too...

Huh.

She wouldn't call him _serious._ He joked with her all the time, in his own cynical, dry way, especially when he and her got to talking for hours on end on the weekends. He wasn't stern either, at least, not with her. He'd never even raised his voice in her presence. He was level, and cool, and talked her through her times of stress after a long day better than anyone she'd ever known.

If anything, Frank was just incredibly guarded. That certainly wasn't typical of any actor or playwright (failed or otherwise).

"Security," he finally answered, his shoulders lifting and dropping in a shrug that seemed much too deliberate. He wouldn't look directly at her, and that was worrying. He usually gave her his full attention when speaking to her. And he was doing that thing with his jaw that she knew by now meant he was thinking about something he didn't like.

"Oh." It sounded plausible. For sure. Even so, he was built more like a soldier, and had the attitude of someone who had strict discipline. He'd never mentioned serving though. Maybe he was tell the truth. She didn't mess around with many cops or security, like many black folks in the world, to really know. "Okay."

They were quiet, and she didn't like it. He was clearly uncomfortable and clamming up. She regret unknowingly questioning something that tied into where he got his cuts and bruises from - and the longer they stood there without talking, the less she believed what he told her.

They'd had a silent agreement, and here she was, fucking it up.

Before he left that night, he filled the doorway, looking at her with remorseful, hardened eyes. "'Night, Chelle."

"'Night, Frank." She hesitated, just for a second, but he saw it and waited for her to muster up her courage and do something. A gentleman as always. That gave her the opportunity she needed to reach out and wrap her arms around his solid torso.

He hugged back twice as hard, and she knew she was already forgiven. "Not your fault, girl," he whispered, a large hand rubbing up and down her back. It made her skin tingle beneath her shirt. "This is on me. It's on me. It's always me..." His grip got tighter.

She offered the invitation to stay the night. Trying to be cool about it, she made up an excuse about how it was so cold out, and he shouldn't walk all the way across the street in weather like this. Michelle gave him the best pleading look of her life to top it off, all so he didn't have to be alone with only Max as company. 

Over in his apartment, she couldn't know for sure if he'd do something reckless while away from her.

Shockingly enough for the both of them, he accepted the offer, insisting on taking the couch. Somehow, he slept better on that couch, surrounded by the scent of Michelle's place, than he had for the past few years in his own bed.

Michelle kept her bedroom door open so she'd be able to hear the soft rumble of Frank's snores. She never imagined him as someone who snored. Or slept. She prayed that whatever bothered him while he was awake didn't find him in his dreams.

~*~*~*~*~*~

One day, Frank tore a sloppily made stitch when he bent over to pick up some mail Michelle dropped, and Max freaked out. Michelle didn't hesitate to usher Frank inside and check his wound, never once asking about how he got it even as she helped stitch him up properly.

He had questions though. "How do you know how to do stitches?" Frank asked as Max whined from under the kitchen table as Michelle closed off the final stitch and started clearing everything up. He didn't tear his gaze away from her as he pet the dog.

Michelle smirked, her eyes roaming slowly over his face in a way that made heat creep up the back of his neck and over his cheeks. He felt both unnerved and wanting under that intense gaze. What he wanted, he didn't quite know yet.

"How'd you wind up needing stitches?" Her voice was low, as if afraid someone - perhaps the Devil of Hell's Kitchen - would overhear this kitchen convo, but it was still filled with humor. "Hmm, sweetie?"

God, it was hot in this apartment. Didn't these swanky new apartments have central heating? "You've got me there, girl. Touché." Frank considered her words for a moment longer before adding, "Got slashed at by some low life who got worse than he gave. Your turn." He didn't miss her snort at how vague his answer was. It made his lips pull up into a tiny smile.

Banter like this, without any threat of violence behind it, was good. He remembered how naturally it used to come to him. Interacting with people used to be fun, not about getting information that disgusted him and made him see red.

"I used to think I was a...a real big badass when I was sixteen, and had a-a stupid pocket knife." She turned her head to the side, brushing so hair back from her face to expose her temple. There was a scar he'd never noticed running from just an inch before her hairline into her thick curls. 

He leaned forward, taking a good look at it. If it weren't for her hair always being down, he would've certainly seen it before. Frank didn't know the story, but he was already pissed at whoever or whatever caused her to get hurt.

Without thinking, he placed his hand over the one she used to swipe her hair back, and let a finger trace the mark. The skin felt as scars usually do, different from the skin surrounding them, but it still surprised him that it was really. Somebody was revolting enough to hurt her. 

"Got into a fight with some bigger badass in my neighborhood when she was picking on some little kids - one of whom was my ten-year-old cousin, you know? I couldn't just let her rag on them, take their money and dip."

He nodded, dreading the next part. His hand dropped back down as he could already picture blood pouring from the old wound in his mind's eye.

"She managed to get my knife and cut me up real good. In hindsight, I'm glad I got mad enough to not feel it, 'cause it hurt _so bad_ when I calmed down. To be honest, I was angry enough to think I was just seeing red when I started wailing on her 'til she was unconscious. Turns out that was my own blood in my eye." 

She let out an embarrassed laugh, dropping her eyes to the First Aid kit. "Fucked up my face a little, but I won the fight."

If she wasn't after his heart with that story, too bad. She had it. Had it and his undying loyalty, too. As long as he was around, nothing like that was going to happen again.

"Wait... Fucked up your face?" His eyebrows slowly rose up, lips pursing at the phrase. "Bullshit, Chelle. You're a good storyteller, but I didn't peg you as no liar."

She rolled her eyes, feeling warmth spread from her head to her toes at the nickname. "Oh, be quiet!" She stood, and stretched her body, moaning as her joints cracked. "Are you going to stay for dinner? I'm planning on ordering some Italian tonight."

He just managed to answer, focused hard on keeping his eyes away from inappropriate places. "Italian sounds good."

As she walked out of the kitchen to grab her phone, he heard her as she quietly mumbled to herself, "Shit, I know Italian sounds good. Exhibit A is in my kitchen..." And if that didn't make him lean back in his chair and grin proudly at the mutual attraction he realized they shared, nothing did.

Max got up from under the table and followed after Michelle. Like a child going after their mom. Fuzzy sauntered in, jumping up in Frank's lap without any prompting because somehow he managed to steal the cat's heart. He pet the tiny cat, closing his eyes.

The sound of Michelle speaking into her cellphone and Max's nails clicking against the hardwood floors filled the apartment as he trailed behind her. Frank could feel Fuzzy purring contentedly beneath his hand. On the center of the table, a pound cake Michelle had baked yesterday was displayed under a clear glass covering, and yet he could practically smell the mouthwatering treat as if there were no obstruction.

The ache in Frank's chest for the family he once had lessened just a bit in that moment as he pretended he was part of new one. One where Michelle was his, and she understood everything with no qualms about what he did, and their pets lived with them in harmony and maybe, just maybe, life wouldn't fuck him over this time around.

Pretending never hurt so good.


	5. Beg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMUT, guys, SMUT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotye - Heart's A Mess

"Hang up the phone, Chelle. I ain't gonna - _put that knife down, Chelle!_ Dammit, I ain't gonna hurt ya!"

She want to believe him. Really, she did. After all the moments they shared, all the little stories they told, dinners together, walks around the city and weekends at the park, she wanted to believe him. But, how was she supposed to know The Punisher's motives?

"Please... Chelle, please..."

He was looking at her with his dark eyes, filled with so much vulnerability, so much pain, that she placed her phone on the kitchen table that separated them, along with the knife she'd been using for protection.

This was Frank. Her Frank. He was good. He was kind. He payed her bills like he was her damn sugar daddy, and asked about her day without fail, and complimented her no matter what ridiculous pajamas she wore around him. He cared, and she shouldn't forget that. 

She would hear him out. He deserved that much.

"You k-kill people," Michelle said, needing to get the words out there so he could explain why. She knew about his family now, yet that didn't explain why he never mentioned his past to her.

"I don't kill nobody that don't deserve it. I'm not like _them._ I'm just trying to balance the scale the best I know how."

Yeah, that's what the newspaper article she read that morning said, too. But, still... Frank was the one going around taking on entire crime syndicates? He was the one everyone had been so fired up over about two years ago? He was one of those vigilantes this city seemed to be packed full of?

"How do you _know_ they deserve to die?" She hated this doubt. Not being sure of the man whose smile brightened his who appearance was doing things to her heart that she did not care for. She missed the security that came with only knowing him as a faceless man who dumped his dog on her doorstep. "How the hell do you know for sure?"

"I do my research, Chelle. I hear what the street says. I see what they do. I take care of what needs to be taken care of." He slowly approached, hands out at his sides to show he wasn't a threat. "I'd never hurt you. _Never._ " He felt as if his throat had hands clenching around it, choking him up when he needed his words the most. "You know how I feel about you, baby."

She blinked back tears, tilting her head back to look at him, really look at him. She took a half-step closer. "I know, Frank. I know." 

He reached out, wanting to hold her like she was his, but settling on brushing his fingertips down her arms until he got to her wrists. His heart raced as the desire to be closer only got stronger. He could feel her own pulse racing under his fingers. Was she nervous about losing him like he was with her or did she still have doubts about him? 

Michelle realized this was the first time he was the one to initiate contact between them since he first shook her hand the day they met. She pulled her arms from his grasp only to copy his hold on her, pulling him in. She needed him to see how much she wanted him there, with her. " _Frank..._ "

His arms were around her in seconds, secure and strong.

Frank buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent like it was the only thing he ever wanted to smell again. "Baby, I didn't want you to find out like this. Wasn't supposed to go like this. You weren't - I should've been the one to tell you - _Shit!_ I should've told you _weeks_ ago. Not some fuckin' newspaper."

Of all the things to forget, Karen still writing about the effects of The Punisher's vigilance in Hell's Kitchen shouldn't have been one.

"It was a good article," she assured him, trying to keep her voice steady. It felt so good being in his arms. She could feel the overwhelming need to start kissing his neck, and stifled it by grasping onto his jacket. He was so warm, smelling of gunpowder, leather and fresh laundry.

Frank pulled back, needing to see her face and know if she was really okay. He needed to know that she was pissed, or scared of him. She was his rock. He couldn't lose her. He couldn't be one of the monsters for her to fear.

When he looked into her eyes, he saw something that made him lean forward, wanting to get closer to the magnetic pull that was her. "Chelle..."

"Kiss me."

His lips captured hers, and the addiction was instant and all-consuming. Before he knew it, he was pressing her back against the tabletop with his body, hands roaming under her red blouse. He needed to feel her, all of her.

"Off," he growled, tugging on the belt loops of her black slacks. "Get these off. _Now._ "

Michelle did as he said, undoing her pants, glad it was a Friday night because she didn't plan on letting Frank go back across the street tonight. She sighed at the feel of Frank stripping her of the rest of her clothes, remembering just how many times she fantasized about his hands. The real thing was always the best.

He took his time on her, touching and licking and teasing until she was reaching for him, trying to get him to shed some clothing too.

Frank licked his lips at the sight of her. She was moaning for more, unbuckling his belt and pushing his jacket from his shoulders. Her breasts were pushed up enough for him to take advantage of, and he greedily sucked and nipped at them, growing harder at every sound he managed to coax from her.

She was his tonight, and he was going to show her how much she meant to him. By the time he was done, he wanted for her to know, without a doubt, he would give her all he had. She was owed that and so much more.

Dropping down to his knees, he was perfectly aligned with her dripping heat. Michelle's hands tangled into his hair, tugging him to where she needed him. He politely began to feast on her, licking up her juices eagerly. She cried out, bucking and writhing wildly. He steadied her with his hands on her thick thighs, not wanting to slow his assault.

"Yes! Yes! _Oh, God, Frank..._ " He easily slipped a beckoning finger inside of her, pressing a smug kiss to one of her thighs as she cried, "Yeah, baby, right there!" She was panting, head thrown back as she got closer and closer to her the edge.

Frank circled her clit with his tongue, sucking on it. He let out a breathy laugh as she screamed his name. "Is this mine, right here? Huh? Whose is it? This my pussy, girl? Hmm? Is it mine?" He licked one long, hot stripe up her slit, swirling his tongue around the button of pleasure that made her back arch.

"Yes! It's yours! All yours, Frank! Don't stop! I'm so close, so close! _Oh, my fucking God!"_ She was virtually sobbing at this point, tugging harder at his hair.

Frank loved it, taking pleasure in the pain, and began picking up his pace, paying even more attention to her clit. By the time his lovely Chelle managed to fall over the edge, into her climax, Frank was sure all her neighbors knew who made her cum. He watched her come down from her high with pride, slowly licking his lips to savor the taste of her. It had been even better than he imagined.

Frank quickly stripped down and carefully set his concealed weapons to the side. Michelle watched him move with no fear in her eyes, just trust. So much trust that he wasn't sure he deserved. Trust that he would do everything in his power to keep.

He was going to tear her pussy up.

"You ready for me, baby?" he asked, fingers traveling to the spot between her legs that he's wanted to be buried inside of for months now. "You want me?"

"I need you," she whined, hips lifting to feel his fingers go deeper. "Please, Frank... Fuck me, baby."

"Show me where you need it," he demanded, voice hoarse as his lust continued to grow. His dick was leaking steadily now and was twitching every time Michelle so much as blinked up at him. "Show me, Chelle. Show me."

She didn't break eye contact as she licked at her hand before grasping him, pumping his length in her firm grip. He groaned, throwing his head back at the sensations that washed over him. He bit his lips to keep from going off before they got what they desperately needed.

Michelle hopped off the table, guiding him by his dick to her bedroom and to the bed. He followed, enamored with how she was taking charge. If she wasn't careful, he'd never leave her side. He already hated to now.

She fished a condom out of her bedside table, and Frank briefly wondered how he could've forgot to think about that vital part. His train of thought was derailed by the feel of her hands rolling the condom on. Michelle climbed up on top of him, hovering right over his thick dick. They locked eyes as she slowly sank down on him, moaning in unison. "Right here. Need you right here..."

He surged forward, dominating her mouth in a needy, passionate kiss, trying to tell her everything that he couldn't articulate. _I want you. Stay with me. I'm here forever, baby. I'll always come back to you._

She whimpered into his mouth as he thrust into her, clenching around him. "Frank," she breathed, and he knew it meant, _I've got your back. I trust you. You have a home with me._

He snapped, gripping her ass and pounding away deep into her wet heat. She held on tight, nails raking down his back hard enough to draw blood, only exciting him more. Her moans and the sound of their skin slapping together filled his ears as he proceeded to work her up to another climax.

She bounced on his dick, her chest pressed against his, and her bottom lip captured between her teeth. Her brow was furrowed, a familiar look of concentration that had Frank wondering what more he could give his girl to get her off like she needed. He wanted to see her reach her point of ultimate pleasure

"Tell me what you want, baby girl." He licked a bead of sweat from her collarbone, knowing it wouldn't take him much to finish. He wanted to finish with her though. He wanted her to feel, even if he could only have her this once, all sensations she brought to him just by being near him. With one good orgasm, she would know just a fraction of the passion she put in him. "What do ya need?"

She brought her hands to his arms, pressing her palms against them, pressing them tighter around her. Her breath hitched, head tipping back. "Closer, _please,_ Frank," she moaned, grinding in tight circles now.

Even during sex she was sweet to him. So sweet, so good. _My Michelle._ He closed his eyes at the fluttering of her walls around him. _All mine._

"Harder! Faster! _Please, oh, fuck!"_

He did as commanded, taking her how she liked and holding her tight. Their hips worked in sync for as long as they could before they began to become frantic, almost there, _almost...there!_

Frank came a split second after with a low growl, lips finding Michelle's shoulder and sucking at the soft flesh while she trembled beneath him. "I got you, sweetheart," he whispered between kisses, loving how she went slack in his arms, her face buried between his shoulder and neck.

When Michelle's breathing was back to relatively normal, Frank made a quick trip to the bathroom, coming back a moment later with a cloth to clean Michelle up. He tried to play innocent as he rubbed the warm, damp cloth against her most sensitive area, but his mischievous look didn't escape her.

She smirked at him. _Smug bastard._

Frank joined her in bed after tossing the cloth in the hamper, settling back against the headboard with her and draping the sheets over them.

"So... Do we need to have the _what-are-we_ talk?" Michelle asked, resting her head on his broad chest, listening to his heartbeat. "'Cause you can't just dick me down like that and say we're just friends."

Frank chuckled, folding one of his arms behind his head and basking in the calm that nestled deep within him. Sex hadn't been that good since Maria and him had, _"Welcome back from near death, I'm glad you're still alive,"_ sex after his first tour of duty.

He missed holding a warm body close like this, all of his muscles relaxed and his head somehow cleared and hazy at the same time. Hearing Michelle's breathing, feeling every soft curve pressed to him, and smelling the scent of her perfume all around him, Frank couldn't think of a place he'd rather be than here.

He pulled Michelle a bit closer, as if there were a hidden threat looking to take this, take her, away from him. "I agree, Chelle. I won't just dick you down and say you're just my friend." He cupped her ass with his free hand, enjoying the way she wiggled against him. He was already wanting another round, but they had to clear this up first.

"I'm yours if ya want me. I want you." _I ain't never gonna force ya to want me back, he thought. I know I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you, and your affection. Not one bit, but I want it. More than anything._

"Yeah?" _Classic Frank, always a sweetheart to me._ "You want me to be your girlfriend, Frank?"

He grunted in affirmation, but still said, "Only if you want me to be your boyfriend," because he was always fair with her, no matter how much he wanted to get on his knees for her. And he wasn't entirely sure he was beyond any begging when it came to Michelle.

"I do want you." Michelle was grateful for the fact that he couldn't see her smile by the way they were laid out. She was sure it looked goofy as hell.

"You do?"

"Yep."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, Frank," she tilted her head back, looking up at him. "Glad to know my feelings for you are reciprocated."

He kissed the crown of her head. "I know what you mean."

Michelle began to trace the scars littered all over his abdomen, listening to his heart rate pick up. Frank let out a contented sigh, wondering how her hands could be so soft with all the writing she did for work, not to mention the abundant baking and cleaning she did when bored.

A few minutes later, Frank broke the peaceful silence between them with a question. "What're we having for dinner?"

"Pizza...and, maybe, then each other for dessert?"

He laughed at her hopeful response, rolling her onto her back and situating himself above her. "Mind if I have a little taste of dessert right now?" he asked, already disappearing beneath the covers with a devilish smile. "You've easily become my favorite taste, you know..."


	6. Come Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hozier - It Will Come Back

Frank stood in front of Michelle, acting as a human shield as he glared at the Daredevil. He didn't want her getting tangled in his shit, especially if that shit involved the righteous, arrogant motherfucker he was looking at. "You want me to join your super secret club, Red, is that it?"

The Devil sighed, sounding tired and done with everything in that single exhale. "It's not a club. We're a...team, and we could use your - "

"Ability to get the job done right the first time?"

"... _determination and perseverance._ Nobody's got endurance like The Punisher."

"'Cause I know what I'm doin' and why I gotta do it." 

It wasn't just about vengeance for his family anymore. It was so Michelle didn't have to walk around needing Max to keep assholes at bay. So he didn't have to worry every time she went out and he couldn't follow. So nobody else had to suffer what he went through because not everyone was given a Michelle to piece their heart together and open their eyes to the remaining spots of light in the world.

From behind the Daredevil, a dark-haired woman with pale skin and a sour expression snorted. Frank didn't spare her a glance as she spoke, too sure that Red would try something stupid. "If that's a no, can we get going? Danny and Luke are waiting on us, Ma - man." 

The Daredevil didn't move, even though that was a clear sign to go, waiting on Frank's official answer. He was surprised when the woman who they'd found him on the rooftop with stepped close to Frank's side and began whispering in his ear, "Couldn't hurt to have a team at your six. Safer. I'd like to see you're safer."

The blind hero didn't know who this woman was, but he was thankful for her help because like putty in her hands, Frank huffed and grit out, "Fine, Chelle." His voice was rough and stern as he made sure to tack on, "But, I ain't gonna let you talk me outta killin' bastards that deserve to see what Hell has in store for 'em. Ain't lettin' you slow my progress down none. Spent ten months gettin' things just right."

The unknown woman let out a chuckle that became muffled behind her hand, and Matt could sense Frank shift so that she was in his line of sight, rather than behind him. He backed up, a little closer to her, and Matt heard the whisper of a hand against leather, two heart rates spiking. She only had her free hand on Frank's shoulder, but they reacted as if it were a more intimate touch.

Frank wouldn't let just any civilian be so close, or speak their piece on a subject that normally wouldn't concern them. But this civilian _was_ close, and _did_ speak, and _was_ concerned. Were they...?

"W-Wait up a sec... Are you two, like, a...y'know?" Jessica asked incredulously, and Matt was thankful for his friend's presence. It would have been much harder for him to get an answer out of Frank.

The irritated grunt Jess got was very telling. In comparison to the inevitable silence Matt would have gotten, it seemed like a formal announcement broadcast in Times Square.

"Oh, shit! The Punisher's got a fuckin' _girlfriend._ Of fuckin' course." Jessica snorted again.

Matt resisted the urge to tell her to quit poking a bear that owned several guns. He settled on jumping in before Jess started making jokes that got them hurt. "Okay! We'll be in contact when we need you. Thanks for your cooperation. Goodnight, Miss..."

"Wright."

"Of fuckin' course," Jessica muttered again, turning on her heel to leave. She jumped to the next building over, having the courtesy to check that Matt was doing the same before continuing on.

When the two Defenders were far enough away from his liking, Frank turned to Michelle. His expression wasn't nearly as hardened when he grinned at her. "So, we still on for breakfast in the mornin' at that diner two blocks over?" he asked, adjusting the rifle on his back.

"Yeah, I just came up here to give you," she held up his favorite knife, " _this._ You left it on the table after sharpening it. Max was trying to stash it with his toys, and you know what happened with that wooden spoon he sleeps with."

"I'd never get this back." He kissed her and accepted the weapon. "Thanks, baby. Don't stay up all night gradin' papers. After breakfast, I'm taking you to the gun range."

Her shoulders noticeably slumped. "Ugh. Why would I play around with guns, sweetie, when you've got a much more fun tool for me?" She ran her hand down his Kevlar vest and to his belt. "Wouldn't you rather play with me, huh, Frank?"

For a moment, he considered it. Only a moment.

"After I teach you how to shoot properly." He swat her on the ass, making her pout. He kissed the unhappy expression away before bidding her a farewell, off to finish up a job involving the Irish mob and a string of blackmailed local business owners.

Michelle returned to the safety of the apartment she now shared with Frank. She settled on the couch Frank loved to lounge on after a long night, her laptop in hand. Lightly scratching Fuzzy on the head when the cat strolled up for some attention, she signed into her grading account. Knocking out this task would free up her weekend.

From the kitchen, Michelle could hear the sound of Max chomping down his dinner. _He eats almost as quickly as Frank._ Michelle was once again thinking of how she wished he had stayed.

Without taking her eyes off the screen, Michelle said to Fuzzy, "The only thing that Frank should be shooting tonight is his - " Fuzzy walked away. "Oh, okay. So, you can come in a room, stretch your leg up and lick yourself when I'm trying to watch TV, but I can't talk to you in a language you don't understand about trying to get my walls painted white? I see how it is, my dear kitty."

Fuzzy was a stone-cold savage. It made Michelle proud.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Now that there was no adrenaline coursing through his body, giving him the strength to do what needed to be done, everything ached. _Everything._

He probably should think about spacing out his jobs more. A week ago, it was the Irish mob, and now, _this._

He took a look around the room of dead bodies he stood in the middle of. These lowlife bastards thought pushing drugs around hospitals and colleges was acceptable, and for that, they had to pay. They were getting people with serious conditions addicted to pills that would kill them as soon as they thought about upping the dosage, and slipping Adderall to kids that wanted to study without losing focus and didn't know better.

Bullet woulds, bruises and lots bleeding came with the job description, but _fuck_ he was tired.

A hot shower and some cuddling with his girl sounded nice right then. Just the thought of Michelle's sleeping body responding to him slipping into their bed, legs tangling with his and face nuzzling against his chest, made him smirk. No matter what, she could bring a smile out of him after the roughest of days. Pulling him from the edge, grounding him in reality, pushing all the rotten things he'd seen with a soft touch of her hand.

She was so good that one day, he figured, he would wake up to find she was gone. After all, why would someone with an inner glow like hers stick with someone who trekked a grimy, painful and bloody path? He couldn't offer her much but his protection and love in exchange for all the healing she'd done for him without realizing.

It didn't feel like enough, but whenever he tried to apologize for it, she would shush him and launch herself into his arms. Frank would drop it, just for then. The worry that she would want more always remained.

_Enough of that._ Frank shook his head to clear the troubling thoughts. It wasn't as effective as Michelle's touch or soothing voice, but it would have to do. There was some other shit he had to take care of.

Frank stepped out of the room and made his way out of the warehouse, back to his van. He went to the passenger side, rummaging through the glove box for his first aid kit and slapping on bandages in the places that dripped crimson. Finally, he got out a couple containers of gasoline out of the back before going back to the warehouse.

When all evidence of his presence was destroyed (it was easier to be thought of as a ghost than a man when being a murderous vigilante), Frank hopped into the van and headed home.

To Michelle.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Slipping into the house was a little harder than usual this time around. Fuzzy had stayed by the door, possibly the entire night if Frank was guessing, and began winding around his legs as he went to the kitchen for a quick cup of water. The smoke of the warehouse had been thick enough to leave his throat scratchy.

Having the cat follow so closely by his steel-toed boots made Frank slower to move and focused on not crushing the tiny thing by accident. He noticed when Michelle stepped out of their bedroom, silk scarf on her head indicating she had definitely been asleep.

"Hey," she greeted, never too good at interacting within minutes of waking up. "You good?"

"Yeah. I'm good." He bent down to scoop up Fuzzy, letting the cat do as cats do and twist herself in weird positions as he tried to cradle her. "I'm gonna take a shower. Tired. Think I might take a day off tomorrow." He wanted to spend the weekend with Michelle, no interruptions. "Not a lotta leads on nothin'. Want me to make pancakes in the mornin'?"

Michelle backed into the bedroom as he walked forward, humming in acknowledgement to his words. He was pretty sure her sleepy self didn't really hear him beyond, "I'm good." If she _had_ heard, she would've been cracking jokes about how she wanted a continental breakfast. He didn't think much of it as he looked through their drawers for some sweatpants, too sore for the task of putting on a shirt.

When her hand shot out to turn him to face her, Frank realized a second too late that if he could see her pretty dark skin in the dim house, she could see easily his pale skin. And that meant she could see his bandages.

" _What the fuuuck?"_ She was wide awake. He just noticed her laptop sitting open on the bed. Michelle must've just been dozing off in the middle of an all-nighter before he got in.

Michelle after a power nap was a force to be reckoned with.

"Oh, my god! Frank, what type of shitty bandaging is this?! And why are you covered in soot? You look like you're doing goddamn blackface like this! Sweetie, you could have all kinds of bacteria in your - "

"Shh, shh, I'm fine. I'm fine," Frank rasped, wanting for Michelle to stop fussing over the bandages on his face and hands. It made his heart thumping noticeably faster in his chest to know how deeply she cared, on one hand. On the other, he was reminded of how taxing it must have been to fret over someone who looked for danger day in and day out.

"No, _you shush!"_ She frowned at him, turning her back on him only to click on the lamp on her side of the bed. They both blinked in the sudden light flooding the room.

Great, now he could see her giving him the evil eye without obstruction.

"I'm fine," Frank repeated one more time, forcing himself to walk away from her and into the bathroom. A quick look in the mirror showed how justified Michelle's concerns were. "Shit."

"When you're done showering, sweetie, _I'll_ put new bandages on you. Then, I'm gonna carefully cuddle you and kiss you until you fall asleep." She watched him strip off his shirt from the doorway, too worried about how he winced from every movement to think anything sexual. "Sound good?"

"Sounds fantastic. Help me with my boots, baby?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

He parked his van, looking to the passenger side. Michelle was applying her waterproof eye makeup, looking excited. "You ready?"

"As ready as ever. It happens every year, but it always feels new. I'm so proud of my seniors this year. A record amount of of them managed to graduate with college acceptances, and some even got the opportunity to study abroad in Wakanda! I'm just so proud..." Michelle looked at him, tears in her eyes. " _So proud._ "

"I know." Frank leaned over, wiping away the wet trails before he pressed a tender kiss to her cheek. "Let's get in there and watch your kids walk across the stage."

Michelle noticed the warmth in his eyes fade a fraction, his focus lost as he got caught up in the thoughts that haunted him. Those thoughts were the ones that gave him nightmares that made him scream in the middle of the night. They gripped his heart so tight that he questioned why she loved him. They made him chase down the demons of New York because he couldn't conquer the demons within his own head.

She loathed the fact that she couldn't beat this for him. He was so strong and brave about everything, never backing down when he was needed. His kindness and consideration when it came to her knew no bounds. To pay him back for his love with her own affection was all she could do.

Michelle unbuckled her seat belt, sliding over so she could hug her man. "Frank - "

He stopped her before she could really begin. "I'll never see 'em graduate high school... They won't go to college. Start their own families." He sighed, his shoulders sagging. "I... I kn-know this. I know it, and I've thought about it a lot, but I never... I never said the words o-out loud. I'm not a father any-"

"You'll _always_ be a father," Michelle told him firmly, pulling away so she could look at him. "Always! Losing them doesn't change the fact that you had them. They were yours and you loved them, and they may be gone, but I'm sure they knew who their dad was. He's a damn good man who protects this city with his life."

Silent and gripping the steering wheel, Frank breathed deeply. He hadn't expected for Michelle to cut him off and fiercely defend him from himself. He only wanted to share that he was trying to come to terms with...everything.

His wife was dead, and he was no longer her husband. His kids were dead...but, yeah, he was still a father. He would always keep his fatherly instincts with him until the day he died. And, if life didn't fuck him over again, and try to rip Michelle away...

"Frank, I love you. I'm always going to be here if you want to talk about them. They were important. They'll always be."

He looked up at the touch of her hand over one of his that gripped the wheel. As always, hope and adoration flooded through his body when he felt her skin touch his. It was euphoric for a man that flirted with death everyday.

"You're important, too, Chelle."

She pressed a slow kiss to his cheek, her arms coming around him again to hug him. It was a silent, _"You, too,"_ that opened his eyes to just how screwed he would be without her, her feisty cat and his protective dog. They were a unit now.

"I love you," he whispered, meeting her eyes so she could see how serious he was. "I love you so much, Chelle."

Tears welled up in her eyes again, spilling down her cheeks. "I love you, too!" she cried, reaching behind her for her purse and breaking out the tissue. "We haven't even gotten in the building yet and I've cried twice!"

"It's okay. You sure gotta ugly cry face, baby..." he joked, cracking a grin when she playfully slapped his arm.

"You love this ugly cry face!"

"I do. You know I do."

If life didn't fuck him over again, and if he could hold her tight just like the steering wheel, maybe Frank Castle could be a husband again.


	7. Stay Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end is just a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Father John Misty - Real Love Baby

Frank watched from his position by the closet as Michelle tried to wrestle herself into a pair of old jeans. He pulled out his blue jacket she had gotten him for his birthday last year, and put it on, eyes never leaving her.

She was squirming shirtless on the bed and cursing the textile industry out for screwing her over like it did her ancestors in the 1800s, looking absolutely adorable as she did so. Fuzzy was curled up on the floor by the bottom of the bed, taking a nap, and Max was chewing enthusiastically on a squeak toy in the living room.

"You need some help?" he asked, coming over to his grumpy lady.

She looked up at him, miserable. "I can't tell if it's my ass or my belly that's the problem." She gave another tug on the waist, grunting when the fabric hardly budged.

His smile, always so bright these days, made her want to punch him in the face. "I don't think either are a problem, baby, if ya ask me. The opposite, actually."

Michelle let out a high whine, her arm reaching out to slap his jean clad thigh. He hardly flinched. "You did this to me, Frank! This is your fault, and since it is, you should help me peel these stupid jeans _off_ and find me my - "

Frank held up the peach colored maternity dress, already three steps ahead of her. "Hmm?"

She pouted, looking regretful. "Oh..." She took the dress from him. "Sorry for blaming you."

Leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead, Frank gently tugged the jeans off of her. She placed her hands protectively over her round belly as she twisted and turned to help him out. When the were off, he folded the jeans up and stuck them in the closet for when the baby in her belly no longer kept her from wearing them.

Turning back around, he saw Michelle was already dressed and struggling to find a pair of shoes that would give the most support for her aching back and swollen feet. He went over and helped her into a cute pair of sneakers with memory foam inside.

She waddled her way over to the closet, pushing hangers aside until she found a black hoodie of his that had become her favorite. It was a little faded from all of the times he had to wash blood from it, but it was soft and warm enough for a mid-September night.

He slowly raked his gaze up and down her form, unable to help it as he shivered in desire. As much as it probably set him with the undesirables of his gender, he couldn't help but think that looked good when pregnant with his child and draped in one of his hoodies. "Ready?"

"Yeah, Caveman, I'm ready."

She could read him like a book.

Frank grabbed the keys while Michelle grabbed the wine. They both did a walk through their new home - courtesy of a newly-made college professor and a hit man's bank accounts- to make sure they had all they needed. Max got up and tried, in vain, to follow them both around as they kept crossing paths, and eventually settled down with Fuzzy in the bedroom. When they were sure they were set, they dished out goodbye pets and gave a quick triple-check to make sure their furry babies had enough food and water before walking out the door.

They were going to have dinner with The Defenders and Co., and with the due date quickly approaching, they didn't know when they'd next be able to have a quiet night with friends.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Jessica and Michelle screamed in unison as the private investigator found herself being in the impossibly tight clutches of a pregnant lady.

"I need you to take a breath, and then push when I say push, okay?" Claire instructed. "Push!"

"AHHHHH!"

"AHHHHH!"

Frank wiped sweat from Michelle's forehead, dodging easily as she tried to clamp down on him like she did with Jessica. He wasn't looking for a piece of that torture. "You're doing so good, baby. _So good._ You got this."

"What if I don't fuckin' got it, Frank?" She was in tons of pain as she laid on the dining table of Colleen's dojo, and that was making her hostile. Every word did nothing but grate on her nerves. "Huh?! What if I don't?!"

He grinned, saying nothing. _You've always got it, Chelle. Can't a damn thing stop you._

"Hey, tell your girlfriend to fuckin' lemme go!" Jessica growled, trying to shake Michelle loose. She had made the mistake of sitting next to her during dinner. Frank had gotten up to get another glass of wine from the kitchen just before Michelle's water broke, and Jessica had been the closest anchor.

"Shut the fuck up! You better not go any-fucking-where, Jones!"

Claire let out a laugh at Michelle's short temper. Before pregnancy, she knew the woman was a bit emotional, as any schoolteacher was, but now? This was a performance of rage worthy of an Oscar.

"Fuck all y'all useless muthafuckas! Not one of you has heavy-duty painkillers?! With all the ribs y'all be breaking? UGH!" Michelle screamed, glaring at them all. She never wanted to give birth without the help of epidural, yet here she was. It hurt just as much as she imagined when watching birthing videos to see what she'd be working with.

"Shit, this hurts like hell!" Michelle and Jessica exclaimed at the same time.

Frank backed up a bit when they began their synchronized screaming. He thought about joining the rest of the dinner guests in the kitchen, where they were sent by Claire to watch boiling water, but didn't want to miss this moment.

They were going to have a baby. _Tonight._

"Get back here, Frank!"

He slowly shuffled closer, hoping that she wouldn't grab him. No such luck. Within seconds, he was part of the screaming club, surprised by Michelle's strength when she had adrenaline coursing through her.

Half an hour later, Michelle was deep in sleep induced by exhaustion as Frank held their son, Michael Francis Castle. He couldn't help but be dazzled by the tiny bundle of dark brown skin that looked like it was going to grow up with his eyebrows and nose. This was his son.

"He's so cute," Misty commented, taking a picture, mindful of keeping the father's face out of frame. "Looks a lot like his mama."

Luke laughed, thumping Frank on the back as he took a seat on Frank's other side. "She's right. That _is_ a cute baby. Hopefully he doesn't suddenly start looking like you."

Frank rolled his eyes as Danny and Matt burst into chuckles at his expense. "You're ruining a tender moment for me, man."

"Good. You ruined my proposal last month by climbing in the window and giving me a five second heads up about people following you. You know - "

Jessica groaned, snatching up the last wine bottle. "Shh! Everyone, shut it! I've seen things tonight that I _never_ wanted to witness, and right now, I'd like to drink without your bitching in the background."

Claire took the bottle from Jessica before she could begin chugging it down. "No downing expensive wine gifted to other people. That's rude."

Jessica threw her hands up. "Well, guess that means I have to hit up a liquor store. Let's go, Malcolm!"

From behind the couch Frank sat on, Malcolm looked up from the cooing baby in bewilderment. "Why do I have to come?"

"Because." She shrugged, looking at him as if the answer was obvious.

It sort of was. With Trish helping Colleen, Foggy and Karen make to-go plates for everyone, and Matt being too tipsy for backup in this world of ninjas, resurrection and superpowers, Malcolm was her only other close friend. Well, so was Luke, but she wasn't going to go in search of booze with Claire's man so late at night.

She was an ass, but not like that. Especially not to Claire Temple, everyone's favorite nurse and friend in Hell's Kitchen.

Malcolm followed her out of the dojo without any more complaints, making sure to ask if anyone wanted to be brought anything back. He was always considerate if nothing else.

As things wound down from the chaos of giving birth, Frank found himself being bombarded by the other people in the room making plans. Babysitting plans. Everyone was promising to do their part ( _it really takes a village, huh?_ ), and it was agreed upon that, _"When I'm not working a case/shift/story, I'll take him."_

When Jessica and Malcolm came back, it was right as Misty and Frank were going over when was an appropriate age to teach a child gun safety. Matt and Foggy made bets in the background on whether or not Michael would become a vigilante. Foggy was 110% sure, _"Punisher Jr. would be down for fighting crime."_

Jessica took a beer from her six-pack and cracked it open. "I can never walk into a room with people discussing the weather..."

~*~*~*~*~*~

After Foggy, Claire and Colleen took Michelle to the hospital to make sure she and the baby were all good, Frank got his son and girlfriend into their car and took them home. Multiple texts of well-wishes flooded Frank's burner in his pocket.

The early morning drive on the familiar streets was calming as Michelle fussed over Michael in his new car seat ( _thank you, Danny_ ) and kept sending Frank proud, tired smiles. Each time he saw her reach back, his eye caught the glint of her engagement ring. They may not be able to get officially married, considering he was supposed to be dead, but the symbolism of the ring was still there. 

Til death do them part.

Max and Fuzzy were alert as the couple came in with their baby. Luckily, Frank had obsessively read up on how to introduce pets and babies. He got Michelle tucked into bed to catch up on some actually restful sleep, and brought Michael into the living room for the introductions.

Fuzzy, unsurprisingly, didn't get too close to Michael. She seemed freaked out by the tiny human and walked off to join Michelle in a nap. Max was careful and quiet, quick to follow Frank's commands to stay still.

As Frank watched Max go get a toy and bring it back to place in Michael's car seat, he smiled.

His tiny family of a kind teacher, an annoying cat, and a protective dog, just got bigger by one.

Frank was a father. Then and now. With Michelle, he was as close to whole as he ever felt since tragedy struck. If he ever lost her...

No. This was his family, and he wasn't naive about the scum of the world that plot against them. He'd protect them and give them everything he had. All of what he did was so things that were worth it could exist. They were worth it.

"I love you," he told his sleeping son, praying that this time around, nothing would touch his little blended family. "I promise, Mikey, ain't nothing gonna hurt you or your ma. Not while I'm breathing. _I promise._ "

He brushed his index finger against a little palm, and wasn't surprised at all to find Michael had a calming effect just as strong as his mother as he gripped Frank's finger with all his might. Frank's heart could hardly take it as all his infinite love for his family managed to double.

_I'll hold on just as strong as they do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Remember to leave a comment and/or kudos and check out my other works!


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